Betrayal
by AMKelley
Summary: A (mediocre) ghost story about a suffering author's decent into madness as she tries to write a best seller and a brutal, yet mysterious, murder.


_**I was originally supposed to be a scary story I was gonna post on Creepypasta, but then I realized it wasn't very scary...**_

 _ **This is a rudimentary outline for an original story idea that I had a while back and intended to write as well, but never got around to doing it. Keeping that in mind, please know that this isn't as great as it could be, but I don't feel like taking the time to sift through this word vomit seeing as how it's just an outline for something much bigger.**_

 _ **This story contains scenes of violence, non-con, brutal murder, as well as a brief mention of suicide.**_

Back in the early 1900's there was a local author by the name of Clementine Grisham who lived with her fiancée Henry Ludlum. They lived a rather hushed life in the woods just past the river. It wasn't a particularly isolated area, seeing as how Sebastian's Brook isn't a very big town to begin with, but they did have their privacy when need be.

Clementine was a young woman in her late twenties. She was an avid writer and was actually quite good despite her works not being particularly up to par for some publishers. She had long wavy brown hair she kept neatly in a bun and her skin was fair for the most part. While she wasn't the most beautiful woman, though she was fairly pretty, Henry still loved her regardless as if she were.

Henry on the other hand was in his mid-thirties with a scruffy look, but not frighteningly so. He had a job at the local lumber yard, working everyday of his life up to and including his engagement to Clementine. Now that she was in his life he could take it easy with his work and do something not quite as strenuous.

Henry spent most of his time working at the local market his aunt had left him a few years prior, giving Clementine enough quiet time to write to her heart's content. She wasn't very famous and her works were rarely published, having only a handful actually published, but Henry supported her anyway. As long as it made Clementine happy, Henry saw no harm in it.

Clementine always looked so graceful and confident while she wrote and Henry would often find himself mesmerized by the stories she clicked out on her typewriter. Henry wasn't allowed to read Clementine's stories until after she was done and each one built up more suspense than the last. But that didn't seem to matter in the bigger picture of things.

After a few setbacks and failures to get some notoriety, Clementine began to wonder if something was truly wrong with her stories, even when Henry praised her for such fine work. Clementine figured this was out of reflex because he loved her, which made her even more discouraged.

She stopped writing for the longest time after that and joined Henry to work at the market. It wasn't something Clementine was overly fond about, but it made her feel adequate and important no matter how mundane it was. Clementine didn't mind the long hours, in fact it kept her busy enough to the point that she forgot about her writing altogether.

With both Henry and Clementine working full time, they had enough money to finally have a proper wedding having been engaged for nearly two years now. This, in turn, motivated Clementine to pick up writing once again, proclaiming her next stories would be a success.

Henry had been a little skeptical at her new found rejuvenation, fearing that once Clementine was done writing it would ultimately lead to her disappointment when it's rejected. Perhaps it was selfish, but it hurt Henry to see his dear sweet Clementine in such distress.

But despite his subtle advances to prevent Clementine from writing, even going so far as to hide her typewriter, she eventually stopped working with him at the market and returned to what she loved best. Henry wasn't pleased, to say the least, but hopefully a break is what Clementine needed after all to have a fresh start.

As the following weeks dragged on, Clementine had become deeply engrossed with writing. Henry would leave early in the morning to the sound of typing and then return home to notice that it had not stopped since his departure. It was as if Clementine had slipped into some kind of trance and the only way to break her of the spell was to finish her book.

There were even some nights when Clementine refused to come to bed no matter how much Henry begged her, going so far as to become moderately violent with him. On the nights Henry conceded and went to bed alone, he was left with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew his Clementine loved writing and she wasn't a violent person, but her determination had turned her into something else entirely...

Clementine had perpetually become a shade of her former self, mumbling and echoing incoherent words to herself as she typed them out with her numb fingers. She hardly ever ate and almost never spoke except for the few words she would say when Henry asked her:

"What's the word on your story? Can I read it soon?"

To which Clementine would reply:

"In time, my love."

Months went on like this. Always the same questions and always the same reply. In time, his dear Clementine's eyes had faded from their natural brilliant blue and dimmed to the dullness of her unblinking gaze. Henry became haunted by those vacant eyes that seemed so intent on following each line that strung together Clementine's unknown plot.

Henry eventually had enough, fearing the presence of his once graceful bride, and left early one morning to work. Clementine, of course, clicking away on her typewriter. Henry, jacket in hand, spared one last look over shoulder, noticing the faltering key clicks as if Clementine vaguely understood what this departure meant. The door clicked shut and Clementine was once again left to silence.

Sometime later in the night, the bell on Clementine's porch began to ring, snapping out of her trance-like state and leaving her manuscript unfinished to answer the door and yell at whoever dared to interrupt her.

No one is sure what became of Henry after that, but the next morning Clementine was found dead in the charred remains of their cabin. It seems the cabin had burned down sometime during the night with Clementine still inside. Locals weren't sure as to how this happened, though common, it wasn't the fire that made them reel in horror.

When they found Clementine she was still sitting in her chair at her desk with her charred bony fingers still poised over the next letters she was going to type, but never had the chance to. Her unruly hair was now stringy and frizzled, practically non-existent, as it hung limply around her shoulders.

People present have also stated that, despite the badly burnt and obscured form that was now her body, several large vertical wounds could be seen almost all over Clementine as if she was stabbed repeatedly. Another thing that was odd was that even though the cabin and everything else, including Clementine, was burnt to a crisp, her typewriter and her unfinished manuscript entitled " _ **Betrayal**_ " were still perfectly intact.

The locals were left so baffled and horrified that they all decided to put the author to rest indefinitely in an unknown location with a completely different headstone. No one is sure as to why this was and it remains a mystery to this day. They also attempted to get rid of her typewriter, as well as Clementine's incomplete manuscript, but they had both disappeared soon after. No one is certain who might have taken them.

A decade or so later, the locals of Sebastian's Brook had nearly forgotten all about Clementine, until one day news of a new book began to circulate. Everyone had heard some strange things concerning the origin of it and none were aware of what it was called, but it only intrigued them more.

No one was quite sure on how to get ahold of this book since it couldn't be bought in stores, but it didn't seem to matter because copies started showing up on people's doorsteps. This should've unnerved people, but the excitement of finally being able to read it was too overwhelming.

That is until they noticed who the author was.

The book was simply entitled " _ **Betrayal**_ " and in big bold letters near the bottom was Clementine Grisham's name etched in black against the harsh red of the book's cover. Not only that, but there were small vertical cuts all along the empty areas of the cover where the text was left unaffected.

Most people in the town at the time were aware about the tragic demise of Clementine, but the ones who were more faint of heart tore it up or burned their books. Those who weren't squeamish went on to read it despite the slightly unsettling cover.

The contents of the book itself are as followed:

There is a title page and a foreword stating that the events in the book are based on real occurrences and that readers should stop reading. This, of course, was ignored for the most part and later regretted by those who didn't follow the instruction prior.

The story follows a young woman by the name of Nora who is revered for her immense beauty and charm, being able to win the heart of an suitor she fancied. Nora herself wasn't made out to be promiscuous or deceptive with her beauty for she had long since been in love with her moderately wealthy fiancée Charles who she is to wed by the end of the month.

Unfortunately, Nora is never able to wed Charles as she is killed unexpectedly near the end. This would dampen anyone's expectations by any standard, but the way it's done and described in great detail is disturbing, leaving the people who read it wondering when and how this happened and where.

From what some readers have said, during the last chapter Nora is at home writing a letter to her brother while she waits patiently for Charles to return home from work.

Not many people like to go into great detail of what happens after but allegedly Charles and a few of the people from town show up soon after at her front porch ringing the bell. Upon answering the door, Nora is almost immediately attacked. The details are more graphic in the book, but the gist of it is Nora is severely beaten and sexually assaulted by her fiancée and a few other men from town. All while Charles accuses her of being a harlot and being unfaithful to him.

Nora is eventually left incapacitated on the ground, leaving the men responsible to finally get a good look of their handiwork. Nora's once smooth and beautiful skin is now black and blue, making her body tremble harshly. Readers have noted that the men in the book are said to be indifferent and completely apathetic by this.

Finally, Charles steps up and shouts:

"If your beauty won't yield to me alone, then I shall rid it from my presence!"

Charles then pulls out a knife and begins to violently stab Nora in a jealous rage with the other few men joining soon after. Readers say that this goes on for an unnecessary amount of time, consuming nearly half of the chapter, until the book finally comes to an abrupt end.

The chapter ends with the house going up in flames, stopping in mid-sentence and leaving the story open to speculation. The readers are never told what becomes of Charles or if Nora is ever found, leaving them with an immense amount of frustration and paranoia, but relief in the sense that the story is over.

But what's more unnerving about the ending is that it isn't technically the end because there are a series of blank pages for a final chapter that was left unfinished before Clementine was able to complete it.

The death of Nora in the book left readers so chilled to the bone because, despite all logical sense, it mirrored similarly to Clementine's death. Many have speculated why this might be.

Could it be a coincidence that Clementine was found severely burnt with vertical wounds afflicting her body while Nora was stabbed to death and left in a flaming house? Perhaps Henry, Clementine's husband, killed her in a similar fashion so she would become more famous than she could ever be alive? Maybe Henry killed Clementine before she could finish her book to spare her from disappointment? Maybe he just didn't want to see her suffer anymore.

Either way, the death of Clementine went down in history, making her the most infamous ghost story to come out of Sebastian's Brook.

Nowadays, Sebastian's Brook is a much larger town than it was back then but the story of Clementine is still present to this day and most people still believe in it. Of course, some of the facts have been often twisted to the point where Nora and Charles are renamed to Clementine and Henry in the book " _ **Betrayal**_ ", making Clementine's demise even more controversial to whoever reads it.

No one who was around during the time of Clementine's death was alive, having grown old and died with the secret, so this leaves the younger generations to speculate in fear.

Clementine's cabin stands to this day. The cabin was rebuilt and refurbished over the years, having some of it's original framework still intact, and is currently up for sale. Anyone who knows the story of Clementine is wise enough to stay away, but there have been an unfortunate few who seemingly vanished over the years.

Some say you can still hear the clicking of a typewriter coming from her house. Some believe it's her ghost still trying to finish her book. If you're brave enough to walk up to her cabin and ring the bell that hangs from the porch frame, you can speak to her. But be careful if you do, because Clementine remembers the last time someone rung a bell and she may not be pleased.

If she does greet you, be wary not to scream or reel in disgust when you see her burnt and disfigured body. If you do, she will make you look just like her. But if you happen to be one of the lucky ones you can ask her:

"What's the word on your story? Can I read it soon?"

To which she will reply:

"In time, my love."

Anyone brave enough, or foolish enough, to pull this daring feat is never the same afterwards and allegedly suffers from bouts of depression, paranoia, and, in extreme cases, violent behavior leading to suicide. So, go ahead... If you're ever in Sebastian's Brook and find yourself in the woods, give Clementine a ring. Maybe you'll live long enough to tell the tale if you're lucky. If not, well...

It's only a ghost story after all, right?


End file.
